My mom is leaving for Los Angeles, and I was supposed to go with her. But when a few schools in the Carolinas booked me for author visits, I had to cancel that trip. Of course, I’m bummed—I love traveling with her, sharing those little moments that become lifelong memories. But I’m also incredibly stoked to be visiting these schools, sharing You Really, Truly Do Belong with kids who need to hear its message.
As her departure gets closer, I find myself soaking up every minute I can with her—chatting while she gets ready, staying up later than usual to talk about our upcoming travels, reminiscing about the places we’ve already explored together. She’s my travel buddy, my adventure partner, and the best one there is.
My family keeps saying, “She’ll be back in two weeks. It’ll go by fast.”
But I always find that funny—because it’s not guaranteed. Every encounter could be the last.
It’s ironic, really. Especially coming from my family. One day I was on the phone with my Grandma, we were making plans to go to the Chinese buffet. She was supposed to pick me up from school that Wednesday. I was a senior in high school. We had a whole day planned together.
I hung up the phone and said, “Goodbye, Grandma. I love you. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
I had no idea the next time I’d see her would be at her funeral. That night, she was killed coming home from her birthday celebration.
That moment changed me forever.
I don’t know when my last day with my mom will be. Or with my dad. Or my brothers. Or my nephew. I don’t know when my last day will be. None of us do. That’s why I choose to live with the awareness that nothing is guaranteed.
I don’t want to assume there will always be more time. So I’ll say goodbye with intention. I’ll hug a little tighter. I’ll spend a little longer in conversation. Not out of fear, but out of gratitude.
Most people don’t want to think about death. They find it depressing, morbid, something to fear.
I find it freeing.
Because when you realize this moment is one you’ll never get back, it becomes precious. It becomes something to cherish, not take for granted.
So why not live that way? Why not love people a little deeper, appreciate them a little more? Because in the end, the moments we cherished will be the ones that mattered most.
Beautiful post! I lost a few family members when I was very young and I've had a similar reaction, I always remember this could be my very last time to see them, and to make the most of it. It does indeed make it precious!
Love this post in every way. Beautiful and powerful message!